Princess of the Midnight Ball - Jessica Day George [21]
“Precisely!” The word exploded from King Gregor. “The girls! Won’t even speak of what happened! Shoes worn through again this morning, and Rose and Daisy both too weak to rise from their beds, yet they begged to be put back in their old rooms, and the guards removed.”
King Gregor closed his eyes. “I did it, of course. How could I refuse them, with Rose so pale and worn, pleading with me like that? What am I to do, Wilhelm? Bishop? Hey? Something is not right here, not right at all.”
“I agree,” Schelker said quietly. “The princesses’ reluctance to speak of this, even though they clearly do not enjoy their ‘midnight revels’ is a strong indication to me that they are doing this against their will.” He clucked his tongue. “I do wish you’d told me of this sooner, Gregor.”
King Gregor opened his eyes and looked down at his hands. “I didn’t want you to write to the archbishop, but now I fear we must. This is surely witchcraft, and it must be stopped before my girls end up like … ” He drew a deep breath. “Like Maude,” he finished sadly.
“But consider, Gregor,” Dr. Kelling said, hesitant. “If this all began with Maude, do we really want the archbishop to send someone snooping around?” The doctor bit off his words, seeing King Gregor’s stricken face and Bishop Schelker’s offended look. “Sorry, Schelker,” Dr. Kelling murmured, contrite.
“It may surprise you, Wilhelm, but I do agree,” Schelker said in his mild way. “You’ve known me too long to think I’m going to run straight to the archbishop at the first hint of something … odd. This is something best looked into by those of us who love the princesses.”
“But how? What do I do?” The king’s downcast eyes fell on a letter on his desk. “Luis of Spania is sending his eldest son here on a state visit,” he murmured. “I’ll have to write to tell him not to come. I’ll say it’s because of the girls’ illness.”
Dr. Kelling squinted at the letter. “Gregor, a moment. Perhaps you should seek outside help for this dilemma.”
The king stopped in the act of reaching for a blank sheet of paper. “Whose, then?”
Bishop Schelker raised his eyebrows, intrigued.
The doctor leaned back in his chair. “What if you didn’t cancel the Spanian prince’s visit?”
“What are you getting at?”
“Let him come. It’s Rose I’m mostly worried about. Let this prince come, and see if he can’t find out where the princesses go at night. If he does, he can … he can marry one of them.”
King Gregor spluttered, “My daughters are not … prizes to be won in some bizarre contest!”
Dr. Kelling raised one shaggy eyebrow. “Come now! You know that the only reason Spania is sending this prince is in the hope that he’ll take a fancy to one of your girls. They’re waiting to see how much dowry you offer; you’re waiting to see what trade agreements they’ll sign. You might as well give the boy something to do while you and his father work things out.”
Schelker gave a small, appreciative laugh, and looked to the king for his reaction.
King Gregor’s face went red. “But, but, but the scandal! What do we do if these strange doings drive him away? I won’t have my girls hurt, rejected by some Spanian fool.”
“Pish-tosh!” Dr. Kelling made a dismissive gesture. “If a bit of mystery doesn’t make the girls all the more alluring, I’ll eat my hat. And we don’t know that the boy’s a fool: by all accounts he’s quite dashing. I’ll send him away myself if it doesn’t work. He won’t want his name linked to any scandal; odds are he won’t breathe a word of what’s going on, just to avoid being implicated. I’ll make sure to reinforce that idea when—if—we need to bid him farewell.”
Schelker was nodding. “Think on it, Gregor. Your daughters deserve husbands who can stand up to a little intrigue, face up to these ‘strange doings,’ as you put it. It will be a good indication of a young man’s character, to see how he reacts to this.”
King Gregor sat across from his old friends for a long time, turning over the conversation in his head. “What do we tell him?”